


More Than You Know

by 1848pianist



Series: Logic of the Revolution [1]
Category: Elementary (TV), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-01 00:45:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1848pianist/pseuds/1848pianist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is in desperate need of a case and Combeferre is slightly amused by it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cases Come to Those Who Wait

**Author's Note:**

> I'd been thinking about an Elementary/Les Mis crossover for a while, but it today it came together very quickly, and this is the result. At the moment, Enjolras and Combeferre are basically Sherlock and Joan, respectively, but as the series goes on they will both end up a little bit different.

“How long has it been since our last case?” Enjolras asked, not glancing up from the records he was studying.

“Judging by the fact you’re going over cold cases we were never involved in, at least a week,” Combeferre answered, still absorbed in the book he was reading. “However, since you’ve been tapping your foot for the past hour, I’m guessing it’s more like two.”

Enjolras huffed. “Not that I’m wishing for a murder or anything, but at least an interesting robbery would be nice.”

“Patience,” Combeferre replied. Enjolras got up, pacing the room and still staring determinedly at the old hospital records.

“Do _not_ start pacing,” Combeferre said. When Enjolras didn’t stop, he got up, heading up the stairs to his room.

“I’m going to bed,” he said pointedly from the landing. “Don’t stay up all night. Again.” Enjolras looked up briefly, gave something resembling a nod, and resumed pacing. Combeferre shook his head, continuing up the stairs.

 

Combeferre was awoken painfully early the next morning by rapid knocking on his door.

“Come on, we’re going to the hospital.”

“Did you find something in the cold case records?” Combeferre asked, sitting up hopefully.

“No, I just need to find _something_ interesting instead of sitting around all day!”

Combeferre fell back on the bed. “In that case, no.”

“Come on!”

“Go by yourself,” he mumbled into the pillow.

“Fine, we can go to the museum exhibit that you wanted to see. Just not another day in the apartment, _please_.”

Combeferre considered. “I will be ready in two hours, and we will go to the _museum_ , not the hospital.” There was a sigh from the other side of the door, followed by the sound of footsteps walking away. Combeferre went back to sleep.

 

Two hours later, Enjolras was nearly pushing him out the door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he grumbled, gathering his coat. Enjolras was standing all but on top of him, looking very impatient indeed.

“I don’t know how you can stand to stay in the same few rooms for three days in a row,” he said.

“Some of us have lives other than cases,” Combeferre teased, walking outside before Enjolras could protest.

 

“This is exhibit is on the history and discovery of the Higgs Boson,” Combeferre explained as they headed towards the museum. “It may be one of the most important theories in particle physics of all time.”

“It is fascinating,” Enjolras admitted. “Still, it’s not a case.”

“Relax for ten seconds and enjoy the wonders of modern science,” Combeferre suggested. He kept up a running commentary, which was more complete and more accurate than most of the accompanying plaques on the walls, as they toured the exhibit. Enjolras listened with interest, unconsciously compiling the details of his surroundings as usual. Nothing was out of place, to his disappointment, but at least he was engaged in something.

“The Large Hadron Collider is really a marvel of technology—” Combeferre was saying. Before he could finish, the exhibit was plunged into sudden, total darkness. A few people shrieked, while the more collected individuals brought out cell phones to illuminate the room. Seconds later, sirens began blaring throughout the building.

“I think we may have found a case,” Combeferre commented dryly.


	2. The Case is On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A case has indeed been discovered - with a witness, unclear motive, and everything!

“Yes, this does seem to have all the makings of an excellent case,” Enjolras replied. “If only an actual crime had been committed, rather than a random power outage.”

“Ah, but what caused the power outage?” Combeferre asked.

Enjolras sighed in return. “I can only hope that someone takes advantage of the opportunity to steal something. Preferably, something interesting and of value. Perhaps one of the items in the exhibit, if they can manage it.”

“They might suspect you, if you keep carrying on,” Combeferre warned. The lights in other exhibits began to flicker back on, finally reaching the exhibit where they waited.

“A painting’s been stolen!” someone immediately shouted from another room as someone else cried, “The necklace! It’s gone!”

“Excellent,” was all Enjolras said.

 

“So,” Inspector Javert said, visibly irritated, when he arrived at the crime scenes – of which there were three. “Someone either orchestrated or took advantage of a museum-wide power outage and stole three items, all in the space of a few minutes, and then vanished without a trace?”

“It is possible that there was only one thief,” Enjolras theorized. “Said person would have had to work quickly, of course, known exactly what they were looking for, and had an intimate knowledge of the cases the items were in, but it is possible."

“There was also a witness of sorts,” Combeferre added more helpfully. “He says he heard the person beside him move, and that he was gone when the lights were back on.”

“What does this person look like?” Javert growled.

“You’ll have to ask the witness. He’s standing over there.”

Javert stalked off to interrogate the poor man, who was obviously not enthusiastic to be in any way involved with a crime.

“Shall we see what he has to say?” Enjolras inquired. Combeferre nodded, knowing that Enjolras was most likely already eavesdropping.

“Well, he was old…” the young man was saying, “and he had a yellow coat. His daughter was with him – at least, I think it was his daughter… and when the lights came on they were both gone!”

“Did you happen to catch either of their names?” Javert snapped – more out of habit than actual annoyance, although the young man couldn’t have known that.

“No… but I know they come here regularly. I’ve seen them here before.”

“Have you?” Javert asked, sounding marginally less furious than usual.

“Yes,” the man replied, sounding more confident.  

“Excuse me,” Enjolras interrupted. “Can you describe the daughter? It’s just that women are statistically slightly more likely to commit a robbery, especially a planned one, whereas people who commit murders and violent crimes are overwhelmingly men. Although, paid assassins are increasingly women.”

“Enjolras,” Combeferre chided.

“Right, anyway. The daughter?”

“She has brown hair – chestnut, really, and, um, she’s very pretty.”

“Very helpful,” Javert said, a trace of sarcasm apparent in his voice.

“Is it?” the man replied.

Combeferre decided to step in. “Could we have your name and phone number, in case we need to contact you again?”

“Oh, yes. I’m Marius. Marius Pontmercy.” The Inspector took his phone number, then sent him off with a snort of mild derision.

“Well, I’ll say that wasn’t an entirely wasted conversation,” Enjolras said to Combeferre.

“You mean because we have some description of two possible suspects?”

“Such that it is, I suppose. But, no, I meant that we now know that we have two suspects. According to our witness, our suspects were regulars, meaning they had every opportunity to get acquainted with the stolen items. Add that to the fact that they were standing beside one of the items stolen during the outage and disappeared before the lights came back on, and yes, I’d say we have two very reasonable suspects.”

“And the fact that two are faster than one.”

“Yes, there is that.”

“What were the stolen items? I never heard anyone say.” Combeferre asked.

“The two from the same exhibit were a painting of Constantinople, which I might add is quite possibly a fake, given the presence of a particular building which was not around in Justinian’s time, and a rather unexceptional necklace from the same region and era. One might suspect that our thief has a love – or a buyer – of middle-grade Turkish art, but the third item is a bowl from nineteenth century France, adorned with depictions of roses, of all things.”

“Hey, guys,” one of the officers said. “The Inspector talked with some of the museum staff. They say they know this guy. His name is Jean Fauchelevent.”


End file.
